Table of Contents
Title
Content

The Iberian Horseshoe — A Journey

Part II. South West

The New George Best on the Playa Victoria

Steve Porter

Global Fiction

First publication: August 2006

http://badosa.com/n250-21

I was evidently not ready to return to teaching and my failure to get the job was a relief. I needed to tread the beaches of Cádiz a little longer and blow the cobwebs of Vigo from my memory. I took up jogging in order to regain my confidence and spirit. Just a short run along to the harbour wall and back. I was in recovery and would soon be able to compete again on the world stage. On one occasion the fog came in off the sea so quickly, that I had to feel my way back home like a blind man.

I’m the new George Best

Coming into form

A playmaker

Patrolling the wing

In the Atlantic fog

Feeling sad for the rest.

My plea for floodlights and an orange ball is ignored

I hear “Come in number 11, your time is up”

A splash of Bovril runs down my neck

“Only dribble I’ve seen all afternoon”

“The new George Best my arse”

“He’s a fucking donkey”

“Donkey Hote, hee haw”

Next week they will chant my name.